


we're going nowhere slowly but we're seeing all the sights

by dociswaldo



Series: the distance keeps calling me on [1]
Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Transformers: Prime
Genre: Casey's a trans girl because I said so, Found Family, Gen, Minor characters tagged here unless or until they become major characters, Splinter - Freeform, Wheeljack is pretty shitty but also pretty traumatized, so generally he's an asshole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-07-01 05:08:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15767244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dociswaldo/pseuds/dociswaldo
Summary: Wheeljack isn't okay, Miko is acting strangely, and there's Something in New York. Several Somethings, actually.





	1. just a bottom feeder

Wheeljack’s deep in his work, repairing and updating Jackhammer’s systems when he gets the comm. “Jackie?” The girl’s voice is unusually timid. He idly picks at grime encrusted beneath the console.

“What’s up, kid?” He can hear her swallow. She’s breathing too fast. He glances idly out the the hatchway, watching the wind kick sand up onto the ramp. “Kid?” It takes her another minute to reply.

“I-I need help. I-I don’t- Bulk didn’t show, and I missed the bus, and Jack and Raf already left with Bee, so I went to the bus stop to catch the next one so I could get a little closer to my host family’s before I had to walk, but then there was a weird rabbit-weasel kinda thing, it was hurt, and I didn’t know, and I followed it, and-”

He zones out, a bit. She’s rambling, off on a tangent. She does that. He starts fiddling with a doohickey he has no idea as to the purpose of, courtesy of the former owner of the ship he’d won. He tunes back in. She’s still talking.

“- and then Bulk called me fleshbag, and I don’t know what to do!”

Okay, so he might have missed a few key details.

“Where are ya, exactly?” She’s panting, obviously worked up. “Th-third and Broadway. What are you-”

He cuts her off. “Sit tight. I’ll be there in ten.” He’s lying. He’s there in five. Oops. She’s a wreck, her hair straggling around her shoulders, leggings ripped, her belt gone. He feels a sharp pang of- something. She looks so tired. He moves more quickly. She blinks up at him, eyes red rimmed and dazed. “Jackie!” He doesn’t touch her. He itches to brush her hair back, check her scrapes and bruises, but he refrains. It isn’t his place, anyway. “What happened?”

She swallows quickly, and he remembers, distantly. Remembers the same kind of panic and fear as a kid, especially when he’s been left alone. He keeps his eyes on her. This close, he can see leaves and twigs and dirt in her hair. She’s so small. “The- the thing. The rabbit thing. It was hurt and-” He cuts her off. There’s no time to waste listening to her blather about rabbits, not if he wants to make it back in time for patrol. “Skip ahead to the part where you went toe to toe with an angry bush,” he directs.

She starts again, still talking about the rabbit. She’s not looking to her right, deliberately. Her gestures are a lot more contained that way, too. She doesn’t want him looking. Hm. He starts paying careful attention to everything happening that direction, cars and people and buildings. He lets his eyes track her gestures, let her and whoever’s watching think he doesn’t notice anything odd. Too bad she has no subtlety. She’s smart, could be worth something someday, with a bit of training.

Oh. Hm. That- well. Whatever was trying to slip back on the roof was infinitely more interesting than rabbits hiding in bushes, and just as interesting as the giant rabbit- seriously, thing must have been five and a half feet if an inch- creeping up the fire escape with it. Looks armored, and a yellow green that somehow isn’t sickly. The rabbit’s dirty white. Natural selection shoulda come for it long ago, in this grimy city. He’s still considering whether or not to acknowledge the- _things-_ when she wraps it up with, “and then Bulk called me a fleshbag.” He really needed to pay better attention.

Wheeljack rolls his shoulders back, shoves scarred and dirty hands in ratty pockets. “Great. How bad ya hurt?” She looks surprised. She called him, why’s she so shocked he’s concerned? If he’s being honest with himself (he’s not) she probably still thinks he’s the kinda guy that actually pays attention to anything except himself. Ha. What a laugh. He turns to stare at the building directly across the street, to his left. He can’t see the creatures anymore, not that he’s really surprised. Looking like that, they’d’ve been common knowledge- common enough to put in the Official Welcome To Earth (Don’t Kill Us, Eat Us, Or Be Attracted To Us) packet supplied by Billy Bird. Heh. Fowler’d pitch a hell of a fit if he heard that nickname. An idea worth considering.

Back to business. No way humans woulda been able to keep quiet about anything looking like that. And anyway, if humans could handle Pooka and the Grinch, then there wouldn’t be any need to play at being terran, now would there? So. Stealth isn’t a major development. Question is, how much does she know? She’s still hesitating over the answer, trying to get him to stop looking. He indulges her, amused. It takes her a few tries to settle on a response. “I’m okay, I think. A little bruised, but…” She shrugs. Rubs a hand along her arm. _Stress response, or an injury?_ She scuffs the ground a bit. _Stress response._

He studies her an instant longer, before turning back the way he’d came. “Come on. I got patrol.” He casts a sideways glance up to the building they’d been next to. A flash at the top, a flicker of color. He keeps walking. No point in raising a ruckus, not now. He doesn’t want any unnecessary attention on them. Maybe later, when Miko wasn’t around. A girl watches them walk past. Scruffy hoodie, ragged jeans, paint splatters. He wouldn’t notice, but Miko offers her the tiniest nod, and she jerks her head in response. Are these kids even trying to keep it quiet? Hmph. He’s pretty sure he was never this… _bad_ at it.

He leads her down a few blocks and into an alley before calling for a bridge. He pretends not to see the girl in yellow shadowing them, or the flickers of movement from above. It itches, keeping his back to the (possible) threat, but he knows full well he can’t take them, not on their turf and not while watching Miko. She darts through the bridge first, and he follows. He can’t breathe easy, though, not until they’re back at base, with everyone demanding to know _what_ , exactly was the holdup and _why_ does Miko look like she fought a bush?

He should see if he can catch the explanation, this time around. Third time’s the charm, or something.

* * *

 

April shoves her glasses further up her face as she marches, ignoring the boys shuffling along behind her for the moment. It wasn’t like she was _too_ worried about the girl ratting them out, but _still._ And anyway, it’d almost looked like that guy she’d called- Jakey, or whatever- had spotted Leo and Usagi when they’d scrambled up the building. He hadn’t actually acknowledged them, but _c’mon_. Giant rabbits and turtles weren’t super subtle, y’know?

She stood to the side while Raph pried up the manhole cover, foot tapping. Casey skulked up to them just as Donnie and Mikey tried to drop into the sewer at the same time. Even though he was trying to shove Mikey out of the hole so he could fit, Donnie still found time to snark, “Oh, _hey,_ Casey. So,uh, have fun telling her bye-bye?” Casey scowls, ragged hair falling over her eyes. “Oh, stuff it, Don. I don’t wanna hear it.” Leo intervened between Mikey and Donnie by climbing onto Raph and jumping off, dropping onto his brothers and forcing them into the sewer proper, giggling as the three disappeared into the (stinky) depths. Usagi followed, trying to keep his grin to a reasonable size.

Raph didn’t really seem to notice or care about his siblings’ antics, choosing instead to squint between her and Casey. “Well, I mean,” he ventured hesitantly, “I dunno why it’s such a big deal. Miko said she was gonna keep it quiet, and that guy didn’t see anybody…”

April sighed. “He definitely saw Leo and Usagi, guys. And Casey isn’t really forgettable, y’know?” Casey was trying to slick back her sweaty hair again, but her gel had washed out during earlier’s unfortunate dunk. She finally gave up with a huff. “Not my fault they got seen in the first place,” she muttered rebelliously as she shuffled up to the hole leading into the sewers.

Raph shrugged awkwardly. “Never said it was, Case.” Casey scowled over her shoulder at him, hissing between her gapped teeth. “Tell that to _Ape_ , Raph.” She stepped forward, dropping heavily into the running water below, and onto at least one of his brothers, judging by the squawks. Raph waffled between following and staying, but staying eventually won out. He edged closer to April, not quite looking her way. “You- you’re not actually mad, right? I get it was dumb, but uh, they didn’t mean to get seen, so….” April shrugged. “Nah, ‘course not. I mean, who’d believe her, anyway? I don’t really believe I know ya’ll myself, most of the time.” Raph considered this before dismissing it with a shake of his head. “Yeah, all right. You comin’?”

April cracked a grin, shoving her bangs back. “You kidding? Last one to the noodles is, uh, an uncooked noodle!” She jumped down the hole a beat before Raph, who had trouble making it through with the width and spikiness of his shell. She snickered to herself as he wriggled and squirmed, scrambling out of Mikey’s wiry arms. “Thanks for the catch, dude!”

He grinned, wide and bright. “No problemo, dudette!” She stuck her tongue out at him in the light of Donnie’s headlamp as Raph finally dropped into the sewers proper and the group headed back to the boy’s home for yummy noodle soup.


	2. left to thirst out in the heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yesterday was rough. Some people are kinda gay, but oblivious. Some other people have trust issues.

 

Ultra Magnus sorted through his datapads, flexing his (claw)  _ hand _ as he worked. His internal comm was empty, silent. The icon next to Ratchet’s name was an inoffensive yellow, status [standby]. He gathered the relevant datapads into a stack, placing the rest into a drawer. All that was left was to head to the appointment with- Ratchet’s icon flashed green, [active]. He commed the doctor immediately, as per instructions. “Doctor. Are you available to speak with me at this time?” Ratchet grumbled darkly as he responded. “Yes, yes, hurry it up. I’ve got things to be doing, you know.” In the background, Ultra Magnus could very clearly hear Smokescreen pipe up, “Hey, Doc, D’you mean things like Wheeljack-” He was cut off rather abruptly by a large crashing sound punctuated by raucous laughter and Ratchet’s building lecture. Ultra Magnus ended his end of the connection and headed towards the main hangar, where the medbay was located. Clearly, if Smokescreen had energy for such inappropriate jokes, he had more than enough energy to give the floor a good scrubbing. 

* * *

 

Leo wiggled backward, settling himself more firmly on top of the old fridge with Usagi. He drummed his heels idly against it, glancing over at his- friend. “So. Pretty, uh, pretty crazy that whole. Thing. Y’know. From yesterday.” Wow. Nice, Leo. Nice. He focused on the far wall, carefully not looking over. Thank God his face didn’t show a blush, or this would get even worse. 

He cringed, hoping his…  _ friend  _ would overlook his mumble-stumbles. Usagi smiled, nudging his shoulder. “Indeed. That girl was very- excitable.” Leo didn’t bother hiding his grin. Once they’d figured out Miko had been screeching from sheer joy instead of terror, things had gone pretty well. 

Donnie sorted through various bolts and wires at the table, not paying much attention to his brother’s conversation, not at all, no sir. Leo was more than welcome to figure out his  _ thing _ by himself, thank you very much. He had more important things to do than listen to his brother blather and blubber on to the apparently oblivious Usagi. Things like a jet-fueled skateboard! A goat-horned helmet that monologued! A metal turtle-inspired robot with- get this-  _ rockets _ . And that was just the beginning! 

Leo was paying attention to Usagi- he was! After all, if Usagi was bored, that would be- it would just- well. Not everyone liked Star Trek, and he really,  _ really _ didn’t want to bore his- Usagi. Not  _ his _ Usagi, obviously, but. Yeah. Um. 

He cast about for something, anything, to get himself off the subject before Usagi got bored. Usagi himself solved the problem by cutting in at the first panicky breath Leo  stopped for. “I disagree. Jim’s strength lies in his character, not his flashy moves. Although…” and here Usagi’s eyes crinkled the slightest bit in mischief. “I will say, however,  _ The Day of the Dove _ was an excellent episode in both regards.”

Leo could barely breathe over the sound of his heartbeat. It- that was- Usagi- he rallied. His brothers would watch with him, when they could wrestle the TV away from Dad, but they didn’t  _ get _ the show the way he did. The way  _ Usagi  _ did. “I-I know what you mean. To me, though, the best episode ever, of all time, was  _ Shore Leave. _ ” The reference took Usagi less than an instant to parse, and he couldn’t quite muffle his snicker as he playfully shoved Leo nearly off the fridge entirely. 

At the table, Donnie rolled his eyes behind his goggles. 

 

* * *

 

Miko doodled in detention distractedly, deciding to ignore Dooley’s assigned busywork. Pah! She had way, way more important things to do! Things like think about the day before. Totally worth the scrapped clothes, that was for sure. The turtles were wild, and the rabbit was  _ okay _ , she  _ guessed _ . Not as cool as the turtles! Donnie was okay, but he was a little too much like someone had shoved Raf and Jack  _ and _ Ratchet into one green body. Mikey though- he was cool! And  _ Loud _ , and just really, _ really _ cool. And Leo wasn’t half bad, either. He was a goofball, but the funny kind, not the annoying kind. Raph was huge! Man, he was  _ almost _ as big as Bulkhead, and that just really didn’t happen a lot. 

April was- April was  _ amazing _ . Casey, too. Not as great as Bulk,  _ obviously _ , but. Still. The way Casey had swung her hockey stick- and April her bat- it was amazing. Ghhh! She stared down at her paper, the assigned math problems-  _ blegh _ \- covered with tiny doodles of her new friends.  _ Whoops. _

 

* * *

 

Wheeljack slouched along a wall in their hangar, waiting for Bulk. He barely paid any attention to the chaos in the medbay. Smoke’s little joke had earned him a list of chores and a lecture that’d been going strong for at least an hour. Had to hand it to the kid, he sure was dedicated to keeping the moral up and the tension down. That, or a glutton for punishment. Might be both, come to think of it. Kid had a tendency to nitpick- interesting word, that- at anything and everything even slightly out of place. Maybe having an Ultra Magnus-excused-and-enforced reason to keep the hangar shining like a  _ xlotkn _ ’s undercarriage was a bonus. Wheeljack considered this theory. It was worth keeping in mind, at least.

He glanced up as Bulk lumbered in. The big guy looked rough. Yesterday probably hadn’t done him many favors, he always was a worrier. Wheeljack shoved off the wall, heading after Bulk toward the medbay. He jogged a bit to catch up, hissing between his teeth at the pull in his healing burns across his thighs. Bulk slowed just enough for him to catch up, looking faintly apologetic. “Hey, Jackie. I gotta stop by and see Ratchet, something about an external comm unit. He say anything like that to you?” Wheeljack shook his head, not bothering to waste his breath. The command staff of Team Prime didn’t give a shit about the state of his equipment, beyond “don’t let it kill one of  _ us _ ”. 

Bulkhead hesitated, glancing over. “Uh, oh. Okay. Uh, after I get this taken care of, we can pick up Miko and head to that concert, yeah?” Wheeljack grinned easily. “Sure thing, buddy. She almost out?” 

Bulk looked pretty annoyed for a second, there. Girl definitely was a handful, which was saying something for a guy as big in the hands as everywhere else as Bulk was. “Yeah. She tried to ditch Algebra for the fifth day in a row, that’s why she’s in detention.” 

Arriving at medbay, Ratchet finally switched targets. “Bulkhead! You were  _ supposed _ to be here over an hour ago. I  _ do _ have things I need to be doing, you do understand that, correct?” 

Bulk looked mulish. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, Ratch. I got stuck helping out with the new hangar down on block 12.” Wheeljack slouched, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. Bulk missed his old construction job, missed building instead of just breaking. Sure, the guy liked a good demo as much as anybody, but just about everybody needed to make something every now and then. Balance, and blah blah harmony blah blah creation vs. destruction until people started yapping about Primus and Unicron. 

Wheeljack’s comm lit up, informing him of an incoming software update. That wasn’t right. Nobody had the codes to provide edits for his internal comm, not anymore. He started paying a lot more attention to what Doc was telling Bulk about the new comm. 

“And above all else, you  _ absolutely _ must  _ not _ smash this one. I  _ mean _ it, Bulkhead!” 

Okay, so he might have missed the important stuff. Oh well. He shunted the alert to the back of the queue and his mind. 

_ Concert time.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Similar notes to last time; I love ROTTMNT so, so much. Quick note, all the chapter titles are song lyrics, as well as the story title itself. Check out my Tumblr, polkaprintpjs. It has links to my tmnt and tf blogs. Feel free to say hey. Wheeljack is not doing great. At all. He really does feel the command staff has it out for him. That will be addressed in future chapters. I loved loved loved the comments last time, and I'd love to get some more! Tell me what you thought, tell me what you liked. Tell me what you didn't like. I love talking to you guys, I really do.   
> The Star Trek episodes I googled. I love the reboot way more than I do TOS. Chris Pine, y'know? Also if you don't know what the episodes mentioned are about, google.   
> A xlotkn is a kind of ceremonial hovercraft, typically reserved for religious occasions, although it was also used for elections on occasion.


	3. when i lose my head i lose my spine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wheeljack is reminded he's accountable, and has at least one person on his team. Team bonding and foiled escape plans are included.

Smokescreen kept his head down as he swept, carefully keeping off Ratchet’s radar. Which, it wasn’t like Ratchet paying attention to him was a

bad thing really, even if Doc did spend most of the time yelling at him. Or just generally making him feel bad- whatever. The point was Ratch

and Ultra Magnus didn’t need to think about him existing right now, not with whatever conversation was going on over in the medbay. It looked

kinda serious, too. He edged just a teeny bit more that way, eyes locked on the broom. Wow, that was a lot of dirt, especially by the supposed-

to-be-sterile medbay. Well, that just wasn’t gonna cut it. Clearly somebody needed to clean their shoes before they stomped in. Thinking at

you, Bulkhead. Aaand he was just gonna stay over here for a while, or at least until Ultra Magnus stopped silently staring with scornful sternness

and wow that was a good sentence. Very alliterative, very nice. His poetry instructors at the Academy would be proud. Except, that, you know,

they were. Really, really. Dead. Bad thoughts, Smoke. Bad thoughts.

Also, they hated his guts but, y’know, whatever, it’s good, it’s fine.

 

* * *

  
Raph didn’t budge, blinking placidly at Casey as she tried to shove him over. Experimentally, he nudged her just a teeny bit, muffling his snort

when she toppled over dramatically. She blew a raspberry from the floor. “C’mon, Raph. Hand over the Cheez-Its.” Raph glanced at the precious

box cradled in his big hands, eyed the distance from the floor to his delicious snack, and made an executive decision. “Nope.” She bristled, kind

like a fussy cat when she pushed herself off the floor and squared up. “Nope?”

  
Raph stood by his statement, leaning forward smugly, food safely out of her reach. “Nope.” She narrowed her eyes. Without breaking his stare,

she kicked him in the shin. Hard. As he yelped and fumbled the box, she shouldered him back, stealing his snack. She kinda skittered back,

stopping to bask in her victory and stuff pretty much all the Cheez-Its in her mouth. Raph squinted,considering her and how likely she’d just.

Give it back. He shuffled forward a step. Casey stood her ground, which was a bold but all around bad move. She squawked loudly as he just

kinda... flopped over her, making sure he held himself up enough she didn’t get squashed. “Ugh! Raph! Get off dude, you’re all shell!”

 

* * *

  
Wheeljack removed the panel protecting this section of engine. Maybe if he acted like Bulk wasn’t standing there and being stupid, he wouldn’t

be. Of course, it didn’t really matter what he wanted, did it? Bulk, to his credit, shuffled uncomfortably before trying again. “Look, Jackie. Mech,

you know I love you, but… This just isn’t working. Miko idolizes everything you do and trust me, I know she could do worse as far as role

models go, but…” He sighed, like him regretting it changed anything. “Jackie, I’m serious. You’re not sleeping, you only eat half the time and

about a third of what you need to, and you keep picking fights with Optimus. Something’s gotta give, Jacks. You gotta clean it up, or you gotta

keep away from Miko. She’s picked fights with four kids in three days. She keeps staying up, trying to get me to take her on night patrols. It’s

not good, Jackie. I’m just trying to keep her safe.”

 

Wheeljack just kept dismantling his ship’s engine. Bulkhead could see his buddy’s hands shaking as he worked. Jackie was brilliant and

amazing, he really was, but if somebody around him didn’t get cut, they burned. He’d seen it again and again- they’d break against his

dickishness (Jackie could be a real tool, no denying that) or they’d burn out trying to keep up. Miko deserved better. She was a kid, for Primus’

sake! And it wasn’t like Jackie was doing hot either. Like he’d said, his friend just wasn’t doing well.

 

Wheeljack spoke levelly, didn’t look up from his work. “Shape up or get out. That what you’re saying?” He neatly arranged the stripped parts

according to his own personal system while he waited. Bulk breathed in behind him, deep and slow. “Yeah.” His voice was real quiet. “That’s

what I’m saying.” Wheeljack stopped sorting. He stared down, not really seeing much, until he got himself under control. “Eat more, sleep more,

keep my damn mouth shut. That’s it?”

 

Bulk hissed in relief, muttered thanks in Standard. “Yeah, that’s it for me. I mean, command staff might want some other terms, but. That’s all I

need from you.” Wheeljack nodded slowly, still unseeing. “Yeah. Yeah, alright. Give me ten to reassemble this and I’ll be in to eat something.” He

heard Bulk coming up behind him. Sure enough, the big guy wrapped him up in a tight hug. “Thanks, Jackie. Thanks for working with me.”

Wheeljack wormed an arm free enough to pat Bulk’s shoulder. “Yeah, well. No problem." Bulk dropped him after a long couple of minutes, and

headed back inside. Wheeljack took a minute to breathe through and think. Turned back to his work and undid the last five minutes of progress,

like he’d said. When he was really, definitely sure Bulk was gone, he let himself… relax. Bulk was right, he’d been on the fast track to burning

out. Had for a while, really. Tools put away, he headed after his buddy.

 

* * *

  
Ultra Magnus stared Smokescreen down until the young mech slunk away to finish sweeping the opposite side of the hangar. Hmph.

Eavesdropping was hardly subtle, especially when the mech in question couldn’t seem to sweep and listen at the same time. He turned his

attention back to Ratchet. This conversation was rather important, after it had been rescheduled from the day before. The doctor finished his

debrief on the newer, more secure comm devices he had managed to piece together. “And, make absolutely certain you clear all updates with

myself or Arcee. There’s been a few, ah, junk messages, you could say.”

 

Ultra Magnus frowned. “Junk messages?” Ratchet huffed and turned to his workbench. The doctor picked up a datapad and flicked through

before he handed it to Magnus. “Here. There’s all the bogus updates and ‘spam’ comms we’ve received in the past three months.” Magnus

spared a glance up as he scrolled through. “Why only the past three months?” Ratchet shrugged, and leaned back against the bench, arms

folded tightly. “The data collected before was archived at the old base, which is nolonger available.” Magnus lifted a hand slightly. He waited

until the doctor was entirely finished. “The encryption on entry xct’j-354 is council-only. However, the date of operation is very recent- far

too recent to be of the council.” Ratchet tensed. “Are you sure?” He barked, stalking up to Magnus. He yanked the tablet closer to comfortable

reading height, and stared at the upside-down glyphs grimly. Magnus kept his own eyes on the encryption, mentally reviewing his own

memory banks to confirm. “xct’j-354 has an encryption matching that of council-endorsed statements, orders and queries from decivorn 37

of paracycle 29632 to their disbanding in decivorn 76 of paracycle 29649, which definition can now be expanded to-” Ratchet cut him off by

waving his hands with unnecessary gusto. “Yes, yes, I understand. You’re certain that this is council encryption.”

 

Magnus gave a brief nod. “Yes. However, it does not necessarily follow that the council sent this message. It is entirely possible some looter

may have done so, using pilfered equipment.” Ratchet nodded slowly, understanding. “Of course. Still, this needs to be reported to Prime.”

He hesitated, uncharacteristically. Magnus immediately stepped in to fill the gap. “Of course. If you are free at this time, I do feel this is best

handled sooner than later.” Ratchet huffed and pushed off the edge of the workbench. “By all means, lead the way.”

 

* * *

  
Wheeljack leaned against the counter, watching Bulk carefully ‘grill cheese’. Even though the cheese was the one ingredient not getting grilled

which, right, wasn’t that important. But still. Bulk slid the sandwich off the plastic flipper thingy (“Spatula, Jackie.” “Sure, kid. Whatever.”) and

onto a plate, before he slid the plate right over to Wheeljack. Smelled decent, at least. He waited until Bulk had his and was ready to dig in

before chomping down. Huh. Didn’t taste half bad either. Bulk looked like was enjoying his, alright. Great. Next on the agenda- sleeping.

Attitude self-adjustment would have to wait until he’d got some shut eye. Chief and Doc stomped through in a hurry, up the stairs to Prime’s

office he’d been assigned to. Wheeljack decided whatever it was probably didn’t affect him too much and went back to eating.

 

* * *

  
Miko scrunched her face up, disgusted with the everything her teacher was scratching on the blackboard- a blackboard, in 2020- with chalk.

Mr. Grundt was boring, and sneezy, and super outdated. Blegh. What was wrong with, like, a worksheet or a documentary? No, they had to listen

to a squeaky dude only like 6 years older than her drone about types of wood and how much they cost. Ugghhh. She slowly gathered her stuff,

but only when Teach was facing the board. She made a mad dash for freedom out the open classroom door, but was foiled by Mrs. Simmons,

the VP. Aw. Mrs. Simmons glared down at her. “Miss Nakadai, exactly what do you think you’re doing?” Miko slumped back to her seat, plotting

the next attempt.


	4. it's been one of those nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Smokescreen has a panic attack. April and Casey hang, and Wheeljack is trying.

Smokescreen sat on the floor in the kitchen, which had been added to the hangar thanks to Ratchet and Ultra Magnus’s efforts. The wood dug into his back as he stared into space, running his fingers over the gouges in the concrete floor. They were from the big appliances, probably. Stuff like the oven or fridge, maybe even the previous ones. Didn’t matter, ‘course. It was just something to wonder. 

His breathing was uneven and kind of shivery, but not off enough to be a real issue, just. Distracting. He blinked slowly as he tried to focus in on his boots- his feet had gone numb, uh, a while ago? Maybe. His eyes just wouldn’t really cooperate, kept sliding every which way and everything was so very frustratingly blurry and his legs hurt and he couldn’t really feel his feet and his throat felt kinda weird and his hair was in his eyes juuust a little and. Boots, too big to be his, suddenly filled his line of vision. 

Kinda dirty, well worn, with the laces tucked in and taped down. It looked kinda weird, but untied laces during a battle was really kinda awful, probably. He jerked back the tiniest bit when the wearer of the boots crouched, bringing into sight stained jeans and scarred hands and- oh. That was Wheeljack. Nobody wore white t-shirts around base except him. 

Smokescreen couldn’t quite drag his eyes up to the Wrecker’s face, settling instead on his chest. He was shivering, a little. Wheeljack just watched, still and quiet for too long. Smokescreen’s throat hurt when he swallowed, but he pushed on. 

“Hey. Hey, what’s.” His throat itched and his voice cracked, and he was just a bit too quiet, but nobody ever called him a quitter. “Hey. What’s, what’s up?” He still hadn’t managed to look up, yet. Wheeljack’s eyes were heavy on him, but not too uncomfortable, just weird. And different, because Wheeljack usually doesn’t look at him. Not out of dislike, or anything, just. He wasn’t really somebody Wheeljack had any reason to notice. He’d literally just asked what Wheeljack wanted, but somehow Smokescreen was still startled when the Wrecker spoke. 

“Making sure you weren’t dying on the floor, mostly.” He sounded bland and maybe just a tiny bit concerned. Smokescreen’s laugh sounded grating even to his own ears, so he didn’t really expect it to work, but- 

“Oh, no yeah, no, def-definitely not, no, uh. Nope, not dying here, I uh, think…” Wheeljack, shockingly, didn’t bother to respond to that truly ringing endorsement of Smokescreen’s mental state. He just hunkered down a bit more and waited. 

\---

Casey climbed up the fire escape to bang on April’s window. 

“Yo!! April!! You home?” She kept smacking the glass idly as she waited for April to come let her in. Or call the cops, she guessed. Whichever. It took about 10 minutes, but April showed eventually to wrangle the window open, looking irritated.

“It’s 2 a.m., Case. Whadya need?” Casey avoided her friend’s eyes, guilt and something else twisting her stomach. 

“Uh, I just. I… was gonna see if you wanted to go sneak into the zoo with me?” She tried to pair it with a winning smile, but it fell flat. April eyed her a moment, unimpressed, before huffing and waving her in.

“Come on, you’ll let the bugs and who knows what else in.” Casey scrambled after her, heart thumping wildly. She was smacked in the face by something soft and cloth as soon as she had a foot through the window. Twisting it around in her hands, Casey realized it was a hoodie- probably huge on April, but just baggy on her.

“What’s this for?” April flapped her hand as she clambered back onto her bed, pulling a textbook closer to  an open notebook. 

“No offense, Case, but that shirt smells like grease and pizza. Bathroom’s the door without the cute flower stickers.” Casey frowned, but followed the strongly implied suggestion and changed in the bathroom. She came out, twisting her dirty shirt around.

“What should I-” April pointed towards the dresser, not looking up from her textbook.

“Just put it somewhere over there, and take it with you when you leave. There’s a snack stash under the bed, and I got tons of DVDs if you wanna watch something.” Casey disposed of the shirt as instructed, rolling her eyes as she did (like she needed to be babied, _jeez_ ), before heading over to examine the DVDs. It’d been a while since the two of them had hung out, without the boys. She was distracted by a picture in a popsicle stick frame. It had two men, both tall, and little baby toddler April. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing in rottmnt bc I really like the turts dynamic. I started this in 2k3 but changed my mind bc I needed to write supportive characters, so that's what I did. Wheeljack knows there's something pretty wrong with how he's operating, but strong survivor's guilt and various other traumas just kinda keep him floating. It's not healthy at all, but I'm working on it. In the meantime- this is the guy who most definitely has a deathwish. Don't expect good choices or behavior out of him soon. I love Miko, and not enough people give her any real credit or screentime, so she's going to be important.
> 
> I love comments! If you see a typo or something please let me know!


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